


Home Sweet Home

by Unshlack



Category: Fargo (2014), Wrenchers - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-04-09 11:30:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4346942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unshlack/pseuds/Unshlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After escaping from the hospital, Wrench decides to come back at their place in Chicago. Let's see if he can do it, despite all the difficulties and painful memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Escaped

Wrench finally stopped and rubbed his eyes tiredly. After 3 hours of walking he felt himself like a complete shit. It was getting dark and freezing cold had been killing him. _Fucking weather_ , - he thought, - _At least I get it now, why Numbers always cursed this state and it’s hideous climate._ Numbers.. he tried his best not to think about his deceased partner. Yep, the only thing he forced himself to concentrate on was his way to get the hell out of this place and this state. He found some money in their cabin and seemed like it was enough to get away as quick as possible. If all goes as he planned, he would reach Chicago in 10 hours.

First thing he did when he reached the cabin – he got rid of his sideburns. Now he was looking like a complete idiot, but at least it might be harder to recognize him immediately. A quick check of his wounds – the stitches were ok for now, but there was no guarantee they won’t be broken soon. Of all the things they had he took only some useful things from the first-aid kit, his knife and a small black notebook, which he found in Numbers’ belongings. One night, after they got drunk, they decided to create a secret code in case one of them gets shot once. Like a testament in a form of a letter ( _«It has to look like a first-class shit. The worse, the better»_ \- Numbers told him). They even tried to write some of it, but as they started, Wrench had to leave to the toilet to throw his guts up, while Numbers leaned on a coffee table and felt asleep. Of course, in the morning, they couldn’t make out anything written (also, Numbers kept stubbornly pretending like he remembers nothing about the code and letters), but Wrench still hoped that his partner is just being a jerk as usual. He, however, wrote his letter – it looked like a really snotty note from an old lady to her son. As he literally had nothing to bequeath to his partner, the letter was quite short, but even so, Wrench was really proud of himself. Numbers once found it while looking for something in Wrench’s bag and made fun of him and his letter. Oh yeah, he heard lots of shit from that bearded asshole that day and even avoided him for a day or two. Well, okay, he tried at least – after 2 hours of trying to get Wrench’s attention, Numbers gave up and punch him lightly in the shoulder. Wrench turned to him, still quite angry and that fucker, he made a huge pause, looking at him with a straight face and then signed: «It was the most tremendous shit I’ve read so far. Good job!». And there it was – Wrench gave up. He punched him back, of course, just to make sure this fucker will remember that. After that, they never discussed neither of that occurrence, nor the code.

Hу had already regret of not taking anything else of Numbers’ belongings – at least, something that will remind him of  his partner, but he there was no option of coming back – cops are probably looking for him already and he’s running out of time. His body ached, he felt dizzy, but he kept going, trying his best not to fall down. The last bus has left, of course, so his only hope was to find any taxi. His hopes, however, vanished immediately as he got to the bus station – it was empty, even the lights went off. Puzzled, he went to the 24-hour diner near the station. He almost went inside, when suddenly realized he could be recognized there too. Tiredness and his soaring body seemed to take the upper hand. So he was standing there, unsure of where to go next, staring at the trucker who was stuffing himself with a burger. Wrench was about to go back to the bus stop, when he felt somebody gently patted him on the shoulder.

Turning. Wrench found near himself a burly man. He looked about 50, with short gray hair and a pale face, which was covered wrinkles.

_-          ..kay?_

Wrench could hardly tell what the guy told him, but he was probably asking, what’s the time now or something. If only he wasn’t so tired, he would probably try to answer to him somehow, but shrouded with a veil of pain, he could only stare at the silver-haired man blankly. A man shook his shoulder once again with a worried look asking (he finally recognized most of the words), _«Hey, fella! What’s wrong? Do you need a help?»_ Wrench shook his head.

A guy was staring at him for a moment, then took his hand and said, _«C’mon, let’s go»_. Wrench hesitated for a second, but eventually let the silver-haired to lead him anywhere he wanted. Whatever. His shitty physical condition wouldn’t allow him to walk more than a couple of miles anyway. After all, a guy didn’t look like any of those law-abiding assholes, who love to call the police at the first opportunity. They made their way straight to the giant red truck, which was parked near the diner. A guy turned to him, said, _«Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute»_ and then went back to the diner. Wrench watched him distractedly, wondering if he should get out of here right now or not. A guy, however, came back pretty quickly, holding a cup of coffee and a pack of sandwiches.

 _«Can you climb inside?»_ he asked, pointing at the truck.

Wrench shrugged his shoulders. Carefully placing the food on the ground, a guy opened the passenger door, and then reached out a hand, looking at Wrench. «Like a fucking lady», Wrench thought, gathering his last strength and pushing off a ground. When he finally got inside, literally falling down on a passenger seat, a silver-haired guy handed him a plastic cup of coffee and one of the sandwiches.

 _«Here you are, maybe that’ll help. You look like shit. I’m Lorry, by the way. And what’s your name?»_ , he asked, watching Wrench drinking his coffee. He pointed at his throat and shook his head.

_«What’s wrong? Can’t talk? Are you deaf?»_

_«No»_ , Wrench shook his head.

_«Then what’s wrong? Got a sore throat?»_

Wrench nodded in agreement and coughed for emphasis. Lorry frowned.

Suddenly, Wrench remembered about Numbers’ notebook, pulled it out of the bad and portrayed the writing process.

_«Wha.. ah, you need a pen? Wait a second, I guess, I have one.. Yep, here you are.»_

Wrench opened the notebook on the first page and quickly wrote something. After finishing, he passed it to Lorry.

_«Thanks a lot. My name is Kevin. I’m here on some business affairs. Caught a terrible cold, thanks to this fucking weather. Not only I can’t talk for now, but my ears are also plugged severely. So, if you don’t mind, talk a little bit slower, so I’ll be able to read your lips. I missed the last bus and now being stuck in this town. I need to get to Chicago»_

Finished reading, Lorry looked at him kinda suspiciously as if doubting in truthfulness of the written. He started talking, a little bit slower, than before: _«Yeah, Kev, that sucks. The weather here is a disaster. I’ve been driving this refrigerated truck for almost 15 years and the only advantage of this fucking state is that you don’t have to turn on that cooling thing in winter. This whole place in winter is one big damned refrigerator. Anyway.. don’t know why, but I like you, Kev. You’ve got a kindly face, even though it’s looking like shit right now. Here’s a deal – I was planning to be in Schaumburg in next 2 days. It’s not so far from Chicago, you know. So, if you promise to behave yourself, you can go there with me. It’s almost midnight right now and I can’t see any taxies around. So, make up your mind.»_

Wrench couldn’t believe his luck. Not only that dude believed in all the bullshit Wrench told him, but also offers to make most of the way in warmth and comfort. He nodded actively. Lorry smiled, then searched through his glove compartment and handed Wrench a pack of ibuprofen. _«Here, take some. That might help a little bit,»_ he said, _«Now go and have some rest. I’ve got bed here. A switcher for the light is on a wall just above the bed.»_ Wrench nodded one more time and climbed behind the seats. There he found rather big bench, covered with some blankets and a plaid. Lorry, meanwhile started the engine and was now trying to settle down more comfortably.

Turning the light on, Wrench realized he’s still holding Numbers’ notebook in his hand. He sat on a bed, making sure his new road companion is busy trying to leave the parking lot, and started looking through the notebook. To his disappointment, the notebook seemed to be completely blank. Suddenly, something small dropped on his lap. A photo ***** , which he took about 3 months ago. An extremely satisfied Wrench and almost smiling Numbers. Wrench smiled. He remembered quite well how hard it was to persuade Numbers to just stand near him while he was “testing” his old shitty camera. When Numbers found that photo, he made a pretty big scandal, using a variety of arguments (from “why are you always being a fucking baby?!” to “it’s dangerous, after all!”). Wrench, watching all that pantomime, decided, however, to fight up to the last-ditch and refused destroying photo. After that Numbers gave him his best death look ****** and took the photo away, promising that he would destroy it as soon as they finish all that shit with Hess. Oh, here come the tears. Wrench blinked. No, not now. He has to stay strong until he gets to the Chicago. He put the photo in his jeans pocket and returned to the notebook. Eventually, he found something on the last three pages. At first he couldn’t believed his eyes. Then he started laughing silently. He kept re-reading those three pages again and again until he couldn’t tell if he’s crying from laughter or from heartache. He looked up from the notebook, worried that Lorry might have heard him sobbing, but found no evidence of that and relaxed. He closed the notepad and put it in his bag. Things were going as well as possible – Numbers left him his apartment and pretty big amount of cash. Still sobbing a little bit, he put a bag under his head, covered himself with a plaid and soon fell asleep.


	2. The time is always now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There is never time in the future in which we will work out our salvation. The challenge is in the moment; the time is always now.”
> 
> James A. Baldwin

Wrench opened his eyes and found Numbers, peacefully sleeping on a couch. He jumped up and looked around. Apparently, he was in their apartment in Chicago. Wrench went to Numbers and carefully touched him by the shoulder. He’s warm and alive. Sobbing, he swept his partner into his arms. Numbers, still sleepy, didn’t realize who pulled him in a bear grip and rushed in terror from the couch, dragging Wrench behind. Finally, he broke from his partner’s embrace and stared at him with a mixture of horror and anger on his face.

_-          What the fuck was that?_

Wrench immediately realized his folly. Numbers and himself rarely went further than polite patting each other on the backs, except that nights when they were hanging up at the bar and in the morning Numbers refused looking at him or telling him what exactly they were doing the whole night.

_-          I’m sorry. Had a bad dream. Have been a little bit out of touch with r-e-a-l-i-t-y._

Numbers rolled his eyes.

_-          Not surprised, considering how many pills you took a couple of hours ago._

Wrench frowned.

_-          What’re you talking about?_

_-          Are you kidding me? You had a terrible headache and you kept whining about it, so we went to the pharmacy and bought you a good pack of some migraine pills. And like a fucking druggy, you took.. how many? Two or three, I guess?_

It was now time for Wrench to stare at his partner in disbelief.

Numbers shook his head.

 _Right_ , – he signed, - _I’m going to make a coffee._

Numbers stood up and went to kitchen, leaving Wrench sitting on a floor, still wondering what the fuck happened. Hу had migraines before, but never did he loose his memory. And what was that strange dream about a Lorry and a truck? Everything felt so real..

Still a little bit shakily he wandered into the kitchen and sat at a breakfast bar, watching Numbers making them coffee. He had always thought that if only didn’t Numbers hate people so much, he could become a nice barista. Yeah, they could open their own little café and name it an interesting name. Something like “A smell of freedom” or “A grain of truth”.

Numbers put a cup in front of him and returned to the living room to grab a newspaper. Wrench watched him absently and sipped a coffee. Apparently his spontaneous hugs weren’t useless as he realized that Numbers added Wrench’s favorite almond syrup. At least, he’s not mad. – Wrench thought. He turned to look at the window and found that Numbers shuttered it once again. Wrench himself liked the light, maybe because in the darkness it was way harder for him to understand Numbers’ signs or maybe because he just loved standing in the sun, enjoying the warmth. He felt eyes on him and turned, finding Numbers sitting in front of him.

_-          Finally. I thought you’re sleeping again._

_-          Why the hell have you shuttered the windows?_

_-          Jeez, not again.. you can turn on the light if you want to._

_-          Fuck the lights. I need a sun._

_-          No fucking way. I hate the sunlight. And I hate when someone is staring through the window!_

_-          You’re P-A-R-A-N-O-I-D. We’re doing nothing inappropriate here._

_-          Oh really? I was cleaning the gun in a living room yesterday!_

_-          It’s you being stupid then. Could have done it in a place with no windows maybe, huh?_

_-          THAT’S ENOUGH_ – Numbers barked aloud and turned away from Wrench. That was his favorite trick when he had no more arguments. Even though Wrench wasn’t as mad as when Numbers did it for the first time, he was still feeling offended. Even so, he patiently waited for his partner to calm down and look at him again. This time it didn’t take long – Numbers sighed heavily and continued: _«Listen, I didn’t shuttered the windows completely. After all, I did it because you were complaining about a headache. Usually, when you’re in pain, a bright light doesn’t help much, right?»_

Wrench nodded.

_-          Yeah, but please, do not clean your gun in our living room.._

_-          WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP_

They fell silent, looking at each other. Numbers broke down first and chuckled. Suddenly phone lying on the rack, vibrated. Numbers took him and left the room. Another stupid habit of him. Even though he kept bitching about the fact he has to translate Wrench everything he heard, he was pissed even more if Wrench somehow read his lips and told him that he doesn’t have to translate everything. Sometimes, he thought that Numbers rushing out with his phone just to make sure Wrench knows nothing until he’ll come back and tell him the whole story. Oh, Numbers loved to feel his own importance.

This time his partner returned quite quickly and with a gloomy face which probably meant they have to go far away once again. Sitting by the table, he said briefly: _«It was Fargo. We have to go to Minnesota. Something with a guy called H-e-s-s.»_

At first, Wrench decided his partner have just misheard and asked him to repeat.

 _-          FOR FUCK’S SAKE, WRENCH, –_ growled Numbers _\- I TOLD YOU PERFECTLY, HIS NAME IS H-E-S-S. They told me nothing. The only thing I know quite well is that Minnesota is famous for its shitty weather. Fucking North Pole, especially now. So grab you best jacket, we’re leaving tomorrow. Fargo will kill us if we don’t get there in 3 da.. what the fuck is wrong with you? Stop staring at me as if I’m telling you shit._

_-          You’re wrong. We’ve been in Fargo because of the Hess’ case. And got a confession from.._

_-          What the fuck are you talking about? We were in Minnesota 2 years ago. – Numbers interrupted him._

_-          No, you’re wrong. That guy. Hess, was killed. I know the killer. His name is L-o-r-n M-a-l-v-o!_

Numbers looked at him as if he was trying to decide if he should call to a mental hospital right now or if he’ll be able to convince Wrench to there on his own. _«Right,»_ \- he said eventually, - _«Show me your pills, please.»_ Wrench stood up and made his way to look for pills, which he found successfully on a coffee table. Returning, he saw that Numbers is turned his back to him, bent double. _«Guess, he’s coughing again.»_ \- Wrench thought worryingly. – _«I really should still his cigarettes one more time, so he won’t be able to smoke for at least one day»._

Then Numbers turned to him and Wrench froze. His partner’s chest and hands were covered with blood. It trickled through his beard, dripping to the floor. Wrench barely managed to catch him. After he put Numbers on a couch carefully, he rushed to the windows to rip fucking curtains. For a moment he was blinded by the bright light, but when he was able to see once again, he saw an endless sea instead of the familiar street. He ran into the kitchen window and saw the same sea and realized to his horror that the water level is rising. The windows were cracking on pressure. Returning to Numbers, he picked him up and ran to the front door. As soon as he reached it, it was blown off its hinges and water quickly started to fill the apartment. The water flow pulled Numbers’ body out of his hands. A minute later, the water was at the level of the ceiling. Wrench still tried to find Numbers in the water even though he realized he had no chance. While trying to come up to the surface once again he realized there’s no more air in the apartment. His eyes were slowly getting veiled. He cried in horror, raising a ton of bubbles and woke up on his couch.

Numbers was sitting on the couch, shaking his shoulder and saying something. _«Wake up»_ \- parsed Wrench eventually. Numbers was shaking him stronger and stronger, saying _«wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up»_ and suddenly slapped him heavily in the face. Wrench fell back on the couchand lost consciousness.

Opening his eyes, he say Lorry looking worryingly at him and saying something. Still breathing heavily, Wrench shook his head. Lorry leaned over to him. _«Kev, are you okay?»_ \- he asked, looking extremely worried. – _«I guess you had a nightmare. You were screaming.. well.. more like howling and I thought something happened. I was going to sleep when I hear..»_. He stopped suddenly, looking somewhere. Wrench turned his head to find out what he was looking at and found a big black sticky spot on his sweater. A blood. The plaid and sheets were also heavily stained with it. He turned his face, looking at Lorry, preparing to dart off any second. _«Okay,»_ \- said Lorry after a huge pause – _«And now tell me the truth, please.»_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, what have we learned today?
> 
> Firstly, Wrench is being really bad at naming cafes (and so do I). :D  
> Secondly, while writing this I was really close to change the whole story into some kind of AU with time travelling. Like, you know, when the story is ended not in the way you'd like and so you're creating your own Universe where no one is dying. But I didn't, even though I really wanted to.
> 
> If I will come up with something else about this chapter which I haven't told here yet, it would be on Tumblr. I'm Unshlack there' so you can easily find me (and maybe kill me) there.
> 
> and again, I'm sorry for all the mistakes and a strange vocabulary (guess I really need to find a beta, because I'm can't read my own stories more than 3 times).


	3. I'm sorry, Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One big and not so beautiful lie.

Wrench stared at Lorry, trying to predict what he’s gonna do next. He, however, was keeping calm. The only thing Wrench could see was probably disappointment. Well, it didn’t surprised him anyway. Since being a child, he was a disappointment for most of the people he had ever known. Except for Numbers maybe – at least he never called Wrench a disappointment.

 _«Hey, you really need some help»_ \- Lorry said, looking into Wrench’s eyes. – _«I'm not an expert of medical care, but I think, that I can handle the wound»_. Wrench tried to twitch, but immediately winced in pain. His head was buzzing and he felt really sick. Somehow pulling off his sweater and t-shirt, he let Lorry to look at his wounds. A few minutes later, Lorry turned to him, trying to speak as slowly as possible, and reported: _«It looks like stitches broke. I’ll try to stop the bleeding.»_

Rummaging under the stove bench, he took a first aid kit and an opened bottle of whiskey. He tore off a piece of bandage, moistened it and put it on the wound. Wrench twitched in pain, but kept silent trying his best to stay conscious. After the second piece of bandage was put on a wound, Lorry stood up and disappeared behind the curtain while Wrench leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Feeling a gentle touch, he opened his eyes once again and saw Lorry handing him a soda. «That should help. I’ve seen that in a movie» - Lorry said. Wrench gratefully looked at him and took a sip. The noise in his head grew stronger. He threw back his head and told himself everything’s gonna be ok. And if it won’t be ok, then fuck it. He was fucked anyway, so there’s no big difference.

When he woke up, it was already light outside. His wounds were still soaring, but it definitely felt better than yesterday. He urgently needed to find a toilet. Opening his eyes properly, he realized he was handcuffed to the metal frame of a stove bench. _«Here we go again»_ \- Wrench thought. The truck cab moved a little – looks like Lorry was back. And indeed – he came out from behind the curtain and sat down in front of Wrench.

 _«I’m glad you finally woke up»_ \- he said, smiling. – _«How’re you feeling, fella?»_. Wrench glared at him, wondering if he should try to reach and kick him with his foot or whether it’ll be better to wait till he comes closer. _«Still silent? Okay then.»_ \- Lorry continued. – _«You see, Kev.. oк whatever your real name is, I’m not a fucking genius, but I can tell the difference between a gunshot and a wound from the knife of a junkie who wanted your money. So now I really want to know 2 things – who the fuck are you and why are you running away?»_. Still having no answer, Lorry added quite calmly: _«You know, if you’re not going to tell me anything, I can just.. I didn’t tell you before, but actually, I have a kinda criminal past too, so.. I’m just saying.. I mean, I know how to force a person to tell you anything. Now I’m all like.. well, decent family man, you know, like no beer after 9 p.m. and cunni on schedule, but.. All I want to say is that I haven’t forgotten my little tricks, so.. it’s up to you. Don’t you mind another couple of holes in your side?»_. Wrench’s knife has flashed in his hand.

Wrench sighed. Even if he try to find, there is no chance he will be the winner. Meanwhile, Lorry pulled out a black notebook from Wrench’s bag and flipped through it. A photo dropped out again. He picked it up and narrowed his eyes, looking at it. _«Is that your friend?»_ \- he finally asked, waving a photo. – _«Or, maybe, that’s your boyfriend? You look like fagots.»_ Wrench flushed and turned away. _«Aha, so you ARE faggots.»_ \- Lorry concluded, but, realizing he’s not heard, he threw a notebook to Wrench. Next, he threw a pen. Wrench lifted up his handcuffed hands a little bit. Lorry raised his eyebrows. _«Really? Do you expect that I will let you go? I know that trick – I’m setting you free and the next thing I’ll gonna get is a kiss with a fist.»_ After thinking for a moment, he pulled out a key from his pocket. _«I’m gonna release one of your hands, but if you try to escape, I will shoot you without a doubt. Trust me – unlike you I have a perfect hearing.»_ Pulling out a bottle from a passenger seat, he also threw it to Wrench. _«I bet you want to piss, sweetie.»_ \- he said and went back behind the wheel.

Wrench grabbed the bottle. After getting rid of one problem, he started to think of what should he do with Lorry. As this asshole had already got his knife, his only weapons for now were his fists. If he tells him the truth, Lorry will probably hand him over to the police. He could, however, let him go in a memory of good old times. Anyway, he can’t leave Lorry alive if he wants to get to the Chicago. Well, if Lorry wants to know the truth, he will get it. After all, he was the best in writing school essays. So, as Numbers told him once, it must be a first-class shit story. Taking a pen and a notebook, Wrench started writing.

When Lorry appeared, Wrench sat up, wincing and handed him a notebook. «So, you decided to tell me something? Nice, nice» - Lorry smiled at him and started reading.

_“I’m running from Minnesota, because I killed my lover there.  This man on a photo with me.. it's him, you were right. I caught him on cheating and lost control. I beat him to death. While I was beating him, that asshole, who was fucking him, managed to shoot me. I ended up in a hospital under custody, but escaped. They have something else against me – I used to sell weapons. Illegally, of course. My boyfriend and me – we did it in Utah, but then we had to move to Chicago, where we tried to maintain a business too. He was born in Minnesota, so he kept telling me how he wants to return there and see his old house again. I didn’t know he had a fuck boy there too. I don’t regret that I killed him. So, you see, this story is embarrassing already and that’s why I didn’t want to tell it to you. All I want now is to get to Chicago and start a new life. I want to forget all thу shit that happened. I’ve got no idea what are you planning to do with me, but if you’re going to hand me over to the police, at least do it in Minnesota – as far as I know there’s no death penalty.”_

While Lorry was reading, Wrench turned to him sideways and decided to play a little show. He took the photo and looked at it for the last time. Numbers was still smiling at him. He sighed and slowly ripped it into three parts. Lorry saw that, for sure. When Wrench turned to him once again, Lorry had already finished reading and was sitting down, lost in thought. _«No,»_ \- he said eventually. – _«I’m not going to call for cops. Moreover, I will get you to Schaumburg as I told you earlier. But you will help me to solve a little problem of mine.»_. Wrench nodded. With a satisfied smile, Lorry put out a key from his pocket and released his other hand. _«Don’t do anything stupid»_ \- he said, looking at Wrench with a smile. – «I have a feeling that we can become a really good friends.» After he disappeared behind the curtain, Wrench carefully picked up the ripped photo and put it in his pocket. _«And I have a feeling that I’ll have to kill you before we get to Schaumburg.»_ \- he thought gloomily.

_«I’m sorry, Numbers. I am so sorry.»_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that just happened. Mr. Numbers, I am sorry too.  
> Guess after this chapter I should figure out which warnings I should choose for the fic. As we don't have most of them in my country, I'm slightly confused, but I'll see what I can do, I promise.
> 
> So, any guesses about what's gonna happen next? And will Wrench eventually kill thst asshole? Lorry's acting like a wirdo now and I'll tell you why, but later. Also, I remember about Numbers' letter from chapter 1, but I decided to post it as a bonus, after I'll be done with the story.
> 
> Sorry for any stupid mistakes and remember - every time you hit 'kudos', a part of me sheds tears of happiness, cuz yay for low self-esteem and no writing skills. It's quite a big part of me, you know.
> 
> If you've got anything you want to tell me, you can do it here or on Tumblr (I'm Unshlack there).


	4. The roads we choose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small flashback, which is kinda.. fluffy? I can't really tell, you tell me.

It was unbelievably hot in Chicago, unlike usual. Wrench was sitting on the couch and stared at the television in the hope of news about the coming rain, but the only news was that the high temperature would last ‘til the end of the week. Sighing, he turned off the TV and took the book from the coffee table. “Animal Farm: A Fairy Story” by George Orwell. Opening it, he found a folded corner – another bad habit of Numbers. Though he was an avid fan of reading, he did not respect books, which is why they quarreled quite often. At any other time Wrench would be happy to be distracted by the book, but the heat had completely deprived of his desire to do anything.

 _«Still, it’s good that we’re having a week of rest»_ \- he thought, stretching. – _«At least we are finally able to catch up on sleep. And Numbers is way less nervous now.»_ No one really knew how nervous has been Numbers. And he wasn’t nervous occasionally – it was his normal state. He didn’t like to talk much about it and Wrench wisely did not raise this issue, and patiently endured his every tantrum. He was nervous before, during, and after talking with the boss, he was nervous when they were lying in wait, watching their target, he was nervous, even if they successfully did their job (and Wrench could remember only one time, when they really fucked up). Trying to calm down during work, which could last for several months without a break, Numbers smoked like a chimney. Despite his refusal to quit smoking, Wrench persistently tried to stop him from doing it. At first Numbers was yelling at him, but then he put up with the fact that his cigarettes were dissapearing from his pocket from time to time. Without cigarettes he had a headache, so Wrench tried to make him feel better by dragging him wet towels in those rare moments, when they were allowed to weaken their surveillance. So yes, Wrench was extremely happy when they were allowed to take a week's break. Eventually, the heat is nothing compared what they sometimes have to do. Wrench was feeling too sleepy to think about it properly. Turning on his side, he dozed off.

When he awoke, Numbers had already returned home and sat in a chair, immersed in a book. Noticing that Wrench woke up, he raised his eyes.

_-          Fucking heat. I nearly died while reaching 7/11._

Wrench’s eyes lit up.

_-          But have you bought it?_

_-          Yeah, but not in 7/11 – they said it’s a rare thing in summer. Had to walk some more before I found it. I also bought us some nice beer._

Wrench got up from the couch and headed for the kitchen. Looking at him, Numbers snorted. Though he was an adult man, Wrench had still behaved like a child sometimes. Would give anything for pistachio ice cream. But Numbers had to admit, that his partner did a good job recently. Their last hit wasn’t easy at all - not only did it take a week to catch this asshole without anyone around him, but he also tried to do a couple of holes in Numbers. Gladly, Wrench managed to hit that fucker on the head with a chair. Even so, Numbers nearly had a heart attack and he had no doubt his partner noticed that.

Meanwhile, Wrench returned from the kitchen with a can of ice cream and a broad smile on his face. He stopped and looked at the radio.

_-          Do you want to listen to music?_

Numbers nodded. Putting a jar with ice cream on the coffee table, Wrench returned to the radio and found Numbers’ favorite station - WLS-FM. For obvious reasons, they didn’t usually discuss music, but Wrench liked to watch when his partner was listening the songs he loved with the stamping in rhythm, or even singing. Sometimes he tried to read his lips, but he never succeeded. He sat on the sofa and returned to his ice-cream. Soon Numbers put the book down and leaned back in his chair, moving his lips with his eyes closed. Wrench smiled – apparently that was one of his favorite songs. When he asked Numbers about that song for the first time, his partner said it was a very important as it’s about the way home. He understood none of it, but as he knew his partner quite well, he assumed that it was quite philosophical song. He waited until Numbers turned his attention to him and asked: _«Is that the song about a way home?»_ Numbers nodded.

In his apartment Numbers had that strange picture. It was a large white canvas, framed by a black frame. The only thing that was shown in the picture - a small house. To be honest, it looked horrible. Numbers noticed it during their evening walk and paid a large amount of money for it. Wrench then signed sarcastically that for such money he could draw him a hundred pictures, but Numbers only rolled his eyes as usual and told Wrench he doesn’t fucking understand art. _«This painting symbolizes the ultimate goal. The house looks fragile, but it look even better.»_ \- he said once. _«The house is a place where you don’t have to be ashamed of being lonely, you know? And the emptiness around the house symbolizes privacy. No one should know what’s going on at your home except the people who live with you.»_

Then Wrench got himself colored pencils and drew a Numbers’ portrait. After finishing it, he showed it to Numbers and mockingly told him, that his eyes, which he did in red, symbolize unquenchable fire in his soul, in the flowers in his beard tell about his gentle spirit. Eventually Wrench pinned the portrait in his partner’s room, and to his surprise, Numbers left the drawing hanging on the wall. Wrench, of course, had fun, but to be honest, he had always been impressed with how Numbers loved to talk about philosophical things, especially when he was drunk. He rarely spoke to Wrench while being in his usual gloomy mood, but the alcohol had always made their conversations longer and more interesting. Although Wrench understood about half of what he partner was showing him, he was still glad that their conversations were not limited to a discussion of how to drop off the body, so it wouldn’t rot for a next five hours.

The song ended and Numbers took the book in his hands again. Finished with ice cream, Wrench got up and returned to the kitchen. Looking out the window, he saw that the sky was tightened with the dark clouds. Numbers came into the kitchen too and put the kettle on. _«It’s stuffy.»_ \- he said. – _«I'm sure it will be a thunderstorm soon. Want some coffee?»_

_-          The instant one?_

_-          Aha_

_«No, thanks,»_ \- Wrench signed with a grimace. – _«Hate this shit.»_

_-          F-u-s-s-y_

_-          It was you, who spoiled me with a good coffee!_

The lightning flashed. Both of them turned to the window.

 _«You know what? Fuck that coffee»_ \- signed Numbers. – _«Get us a beer and go to the living room.»_

Wrench went to the fridge. Returning to the living room, he found that his partner opened the window wide open, pulled the chairs closer and turned off the light. He sat and handed Numbers a bottle. It began to rain. Fascinated, they were looking flashes which were illuminating the sky. Once again, Wrench regretted he couldn’t hear the thunder. He touched Numbers by the shoulder and signed: _«What is it like to hear thunder? How does it feel?»_. Numbers pondered.

_-          I'd say it feels like a blow to the head. Iе occurs suddenly.. well, not like really suddenly, but it literally knocks you down with its power._

_-          Are you describing a thunder or myself?_

Numbers grinned.

_-          Kind of. Remember that time, when you accidentally threw me out of the window, huh?_

_-          I was drunk and you were acting like a complete asshole!_

_-          I  could break my fucking neck!_

_-          It was the first floor!_

They both chuckled.

_-          And I redeemed myself by gifting you a new picture, remember?_

_-          It’s still not as good as that portrait in my bedroom._

Their conversation was interrupted by another flash, and they turned, enjoying the beauty. Numbers turned back to him.

_-          Do you remember where did you buy that picture?_

_-          Nope. I was walking past the shop and decided to go inside._

_-          Did you choose it yourself?_

_-          I found the worst shit with overtones and bought it._

They were looking at each other and smiling.

_-          Did you know its name is “The Roads We Choose”?_

_-          No, but I expected something like this._

The painting Wrench got was strikingly similar to the one that Numbers had once bought. Numbers eventually hung it directly opposite the painting of a little house. On Wrench’s picture there were three roads leading in different directions. Not so beautiful, but definitely with philosophical overtones.

 _«Just as our relationship.»_ \- thought Wrench, but, of course, didn’t tell that to Numbers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I gave up and made this. It feels like I could spend months writing stories about their good times together.  
> But.. oh well, it's just a small break while Wrench is stuck in the fucking truck, heartbroken and sick. But memories is that what keeps him alive and unbroken.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes you could find.


	5. Wrench makes a decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is so fucked up right now.

_«I have to get out of here»_ \- thought Wrench, sitting on a passenger seat of a truck. They spent the last 5 hours being stuck in a traffic jam on a highway as it was snowing heavily. And now, when they eventually get out of that fucked traffic, the truck started shaking suspiciously. Lorry pulled off the nearest diner and went out to check the truck. Wrench, however, decided to stay in a truck cab. Even though they made a deal, he was worried about Lorry – the longer Wrench watched him, the wackier he seemed. He drove really slowly most of the time, but sometimes he seemed to come out of his reverie, gaining so much speed that Wrench started worrying about their safety. He also kept stopping every 3-4 hours at local diners. For Wrench, who was used to eat once a day, it was quite an irritating habit. The cab truck smelled disgusting – Wrench figured out later, that it was stinking from Lorry, who refused to stay at a motel for cost reasons. _«Why should I spend my money for a bed and a toilet, when I can simply sleep in a truck and take a shit in the forest?»_ \- he said once. – _«Men must be smelly – that’s how enemies will find out when should they be running away in fear.»_ Wrench, to be honest, wanted to run too, but he still wasn’t ready to sacrifice his safety. At the beginning of their journey Lorry told him, that they’ll get to Schaumburg in 8 hours or so. It was the second day on the road and, according to Wrench’s estimate, it’s about 4 more hours left. If only they won’t get stuck in another traffic jam.

 _«..fucked»_ \- said Lorry, returning in the truck cab. – _«It’s engine again. You can go and eat something while I’ll try to do something with it.»_ Wrench was about to leave, when Lorry took him by the shoulder and asked: _«You’re not going to escape, right? Cuz, you know what’s gonna happen, if you try, fella.»_ Wrench went out of the truck. Shivering from the cold, he looked around – it was getting dark already and there was nothing else, but another diner perched on a roadside. Hу wasn’t hungry, but it was too cold to stay outside, so he decided to stay inside a diner. He sat down at a nearby table and took a menu all covered with a stains of fat. After a very tired looking girl went to him, he pointed at the coffee. She asked him something, but Wrench pointed at his ears and shook his head with an irritated sigh. She looked at him, probably thinking he’s a freak and left.

 _«For fuck’s sake, I was supposed to be in Chicago right now and we’re still miles away.»_ \- he thought angrily. He needed a plan of how to quickly get rid of Lorry without drawing attention of police. Wrench rarely doubted what to do, probably because Numbers has always been next to him, but for now he couldn’t find any other solution of a problem, than doing what Lorry told him to do. He couldn’t kill Lorry for now, at least because he had no idea how to drive a truck, especially now, when all the roads are covered with ice.

The waitress came back and put a steaming cup on the table. Sipping, he looked out of the window. There was a young guy near the diner entrance, who was nervously looking around. «Looks like a junkie» - thought Wrench. Lorry, finished with the truck, was going to the diner too. Coming to a guy, Lorry asked him something – Wrench couldn’t tell, what exactly, then gave him some cash and shook his hand. Entering the diner, he found Wrench and sat at his table, smiling happily. _«I’ve got a good and a bad news for you,»_ \- he said, still smiling. – _«A bad one is that we’re not going anywhere ‘till tomorrow. I can’t fix the engine and my friend can, but as he’s the asshole, he can’t get here right now. And a good one is..»_ He looked around, making sure no one is looking at him and showed Wrench a small packet quickly. _«I’ve got an idea how to spend today's evening»._ – he whispered, leaning over the table. Wrench stared at him in disbelief. Well, at least he was starting to realize what the hell is wrong with the guy – his nervousness, trembling hands and fits of aggression, all those things probably meant Lorry was a druggy. Lorry stood up abruptly and walked to the exit. Wrench decided to follow him. Pushing the cup away, he took out a dollar bill, threw it on the table and walked out.

While Wrench sat on a stove bench in a car, Lorry was looking for something in a box behind the passenger seat. Finally, he put out a wooden potato masher. Opening the bag, he poured a few crystals on a chair and began to gently crumble them. When finished, he sniffed it and smiled blissfully. Taking a bit of powder in his hand, he handed his Wrench, but he shook his head. _«Why not? Don’t you want to relax?»_ \- asked him Lorry, sniffing a powder once again. – _«It’s one of the best things on our fucking planet. And I’ll tell you what – everyone sometimes need to take a break and have a little bit fun. I mean, it’s just a meth, man. It’s not even a drug, you know. More like a simple way of a medication, yeah.»_ Wrench kept looking at him, frowning. _«It’s all because I keep coming across assholes like you.»_ \- Lorry muttered. – _«You l-like doing-g shit-t to me ev-n though I’m tr-rying to h-help you, mother-f-fucker.»_ He sniffed the rest of the powder. _«Lemme tell you a s-secret»_ \- he said, with mysterious smile. – _«There’re 15 kilos of meth hidden under this stove bench you’re sitting on right now. And we, my friend.. you and me, we’re going to have a business meeting with some serious people about this shit. Our-r next stop is Madison, dude!»_

Wrench wasn’t ready for this. Being involved in any drug deals was the last thing he wanted to experience, especially now, when cops are looking for him already. _«Okay, let it be Madison»_ \- Wrench thought. – _«It will all end there.»_ He finally made up quite a good plan of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I guess it was obvious that Lorry is a druggy. That's why he looks older. than he actually is and that's why he acts like psycho. Wrench and I, we made a plan, but none of us is sure, if it's gonna work out or not. We'll see.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes you'll find in the chapter.


	6. Where is my mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I should tell him what’s going on. – Wrench decided, closing his eyes. – If I wake up at the same place tomorrow, I will tell him everything.

Wrench opened his eyes. Again, he was sitting in their car. Looking up, he saw his partner approaching.

_\- I talked with that woman at the reception_ – he signed, after getting into the car. - _We’re gonna spend the night here. I even got a discount of 20 bucks. I wonder why.._

_\- Did you threaten her with a knife?_

Numbers gave him a scowl.

_\- I always thought it’s your way to deal with problems. Have you been sleeping again?_

Wrench nodded.

_\- Why the fuck are you sleeping 4 times a day?_ – signed Numbers, frowning. – _That must be that fucking pills you keep taking._

_\- First of all, it was you, who gave it to me. And also, it has no influence on what we’re doing, right? So fuck off._

_\- Yeah, but now I keep thinking about the possibility of you falling asleep on one of the fucking missions. Or in front of that guy.. Gold, I believe. Looks like another fucking Jew.._

_\- That’s interesting to hear it from you. I thought you’re.._

_\- I’m what, Wrench? Do you really think, that all the black people always respect and love each other? I’m doing what I want to do._

_\- I just thought all the Jews are a very close-knit community.._

_\- Well, I’m an exception to the rules._

_He’s damn right._ – Wrench thought. He is a truly exception and he’s always been like that. All the rules of conduct, compliance with which was required, for example, for his religion, were ignored, except, perhaps, the one about remaining silence while eating, or, in their case, "not waving your fucking hands or gazing at me".

_It is harmful to your health._ – Numbers usually uttered. - _And also it pisses me off._ _Thanks to all the known gods, I already have a very stressful job, so you’d better not disturb me if it’s not important._

Wrench still didn’t pay attention for sure. Sometimes their squabbles were going so far that dinner was flying right in his partner’s face, after which Wrench was leaving to the different room, with a bottle of beer in his hand, just to have something to brighten up his evening. _That asshole must be taught how to behave._ – both of them thought, while sitting in different rooms, sulking at each other.

Sometimes, their reconciliations were even more entertaining than their quarrels. If Numbers eventually admitted he was wrong, he usually just pretended as if nothing had happened. His maximum was bringing a bag of chips with some comment like, “Without a snack this beer tastes like shit, so take this”. And, of course, he kept glancing furtively at Wrench, trying to understand, is his partner still mad at him, or not. It didn’t really looked like an excuse, but it was enough. Wrench, as opposed to his partner, preferred to do it quickly and as painlessly as possible, and that habit was starting to scare Numbers.

The main problem was that Wrench has always managed to appear suddenly and most likely silently. Sometimes it was getting absolutely ridiculous - after another big quarrel, he showed up to apologize, while his partner was taking a shower, as he could no longer wait until Numbers deigns to come out into the living room. The situation was saved only by the fact, that Wrench was pretty drunk and by the next morning, he didn’t really remember what happened yesterday. And as for the newfound moral injury, Numbers decided to deal with it on his own.

Another time, with a guilty look on his face, Wrench was taking his partner out of the bush, where he threw him accidentally. _You can tell me whatever you want, but trust me, you won’t be a winner of this battle._ \- Numbers told him recklessly, after they were arguing for an hour. So, Wrench decided to prove him otherwise.

All in all, teaching each other manners was passing with variable success.

Wrench got out of the car, looking around. Where the hell is he and why doesn’t he remember anything? Is it another dream his stupid brain keeps producing? He bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. The cold felt absolutely real. But that cup of coffee from that weird dream he had felt warm too - he remembered. If so, he was wondering how much time he has before he wakes up in the back of Lorry’s track.

The room obviously wasn’t the top class, but he honestly expected the worst. Reaching to the heater, he sadly discovered that it was barely warm.

_\- This damn thing doesn’t work_ – he signed to his partner.

_\- As usual. At least now we know, why we’ve got a discount._

Sitting on the bed, Numbers pulled out a bottle from his bag and solemnly placed it on the nightstand.

_\- Really? Drinking that early?_ – Wrench frowned.

His partner grimaced and rolled his eyes.

_\- Yes, mommy. And as always, I’m not offering you to join me._

_\- We have to wake up early tomorrow, so maybe you can wait.._

_\- Hey, fuck off, huh? I told you, I’m doing what I want to. I’m tired. And it’s cold as fuck._

Wrench was about to take a shower, but the water was as shitty as a heater - a barely warm trickle was too thin to warm him up. After 10 minutes of desperate attempts to fix water somehow, he decided to try to persuade Numbers go back to the reception and ask for a different room. But when he returned to the room, he found his partner peacefully sleeping. The bottle was a little bit emptier, than it was before he left to the shower, but it still wasn’t safe to wake Numbers. And that also meant he can forget about a normal dinner. He didn’t want to eat alone and Numbers had already had whiskey instead of dinner. Fucking wino.

He took his bag and put the gun on the nightstand. Returning to the door, he made sure it’s locked. In a closet he found two plaids, which was odd for such a fucked place, but very handy. He carefully covered Numbers with one of them, then lay down on his bed, turned the light and closed his eyes. Sleep wasn’t coming. He kept trying to remember anything which was before he woke up in their car, when he felt that the room lights came on again. Opening one eye, he found Numbers sitting on the bed, so he sat up slightly too.

_\- Where did you get a plaid?_

_\- In the wardrobe. You should definitely look into there more often._

_\- I assumed that there might be a dead whore and decided not to take risks._

Wrench chuckled.

_\- Can’t sleep. – he signed._

_\- Oh, I had such a shitty dream. Blizzard and a shootout.. I think I’m gonna take a shower._

_\- No chance. The water is cold._

_\- What a shit hole. I need to talk to that bitch._

_\- Forget it. We’re leaving early anyways._

_\- I’m fucking freezing. Not only I’m going to be frozen by tomorrow, but I’ll also smell like shit._

Without hesitation, Wrench pulled off his plaid and threw it to his partner.

_Take it, I'm okay with a blanket._ – he signed, without waiting for a question.

Numbers gave him a kind of a smile and curled up under the plaids. Grabbing a blanket from a chair, Wrench went back to bed and turned off the light. The longer he stared into the darkness, the worse he felt. Why does he keep seeing that weird dreams? Numbers is going to die. He can change nothing. He opened his eyes to find out his partner's asleep again. His face was lighted with a deem street light. He was frowning even in a dream.

_I should tell him what’s going on_. –  Wrench decided, closing his eyes. – _If I wake up at the same place tomorrow, I will tell him everything._

Even though he could possibly predict Numbers’ reaction, he’s gonna do it no matter what.


	7. The Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like this piece of shit decided to get rid of me - thought Wrench and for the first time looked straight into the man’s eyes

He was awakened by a kick. Still half-asleep, Wrench jumped up, ready to rush.

 _Hey, calm down!_ – Lorry muttered darkly. He patiently waited ‘till Wrench was finally awake and focused, and continued -  _Luckily for you, Sleeping Beauty, I have some good news. Even though that moron was drunk, he still managed to call to his homies, so that they fixed the  truck during the night. There is a half an hour before we’ll enter Madison, so be ready. And now if you don’t mind, I'll move to piss. If you want to eat, there’s a pack of noodles somewhere near the bed. As you’ll be done eating, I want to tell you what exactly are we going to do. "_ With these words he turned and climbed out of the cabin.

Wrench flopped back onto the makeshift bed and closed his eyes. Imminent meeting with unknown drug dealer was inevitable, and this asshole still did not say exactly what he wants from Wrench. His wounded side, of course, immediately reminded of itself after such a sharp movement. Pulling the remnants of bandages, wincing, he somehow changed the bandage and looked at the glass. His stomach growled treacherously, but it seemed there are no promised noodles nearby. And asking Lorry for help was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

The cab lurched - huffing from the strain, Lorry perched on the driver's seat, looked back at Wrench, who immediately looked away, and started the engine.

 _You must be thinking I’m happy to meet with this junkie_ \- he muttered. – _But I’m not. I’m doing this only for my dear Carol, my sweet baby._

15 minutes later, the wood on the sides of the road began to thin out rapidly. During his life Wrench had visited Madison couple of times, but unfortunately it wasn’t enough to identify at least the approximate direction. Truck kept dodging, and after the seventh rotation in a row Wrench gave up and leaned back in his seat. Lorry, meanwhile, clenched the steering wheel harder as they approached their destination. When they parked along the narrow street, he turned to the Wrench and said slowly - _Our. Meeting. Is. Appointed. At. Five. O’clock. Now you’ll put our.. goods in the box. I also strongly advice you not to do any wrong moves._

He climbed out of the cab. The car started - apparently Lorry opened the vehicle body. A few minutes later he came back to the cabin with the box, which depicted a grinning chicken and motioned Wrench to start putting packages in it, staring at him.

When the loading was finished, Lorry sighed and looked at his watch.

 _Well. It's time._ \- he said, and took out a dirty white cap and threw it to Wrench - _Put this on. In case someone asks, we are the workers of the Happy Chicken and currently carrying the box to the customer. You’re a trainee, and I’m teaching you. And don’t do anything without my permission if you want to walk out safely._

At the end of the street darkened long two-storey building. Wrench looked around - houses along the street didn’t really inspire confidence by their appearance. _"Yeah, if there’s anyone who might suspect us of drug trafficking, he would probably be some kind of druggy too."_ \- thought Wrench, clutching a box. After reaching the warehouse, Lorry hit the big black button, greening widely.

 _\- Yes?_ – answered a cold voice.

_\- Hello, we’ re from Happy Chicken! Always in a hurry to bring you the best chicken meat!_

_\- "We?"_ – asked Voice calmly

-  _Yes, uhm, there’s me and.. my intern"_ \- said Lorry and giggled nervously, frantically pulling Wrench in sight of cameras. - _We have launched a new social project - helping people with disabilities. He’s deaf and dumb, but does his job well_

 _\- Right. Come in._ \- followed the grim response after a short pause.

Entering, Wrench discovered that inside the building was much larger than it looked from the outside. There were long raws, cluttered with boxes, leaving space between them exactly for one person. Barely squeezing between the shelves, they deepened in and finally went to the next door, which on the occasion of their arrival was hospitably ajar. However, the first thing that greeted them at the entrance – guns, which were aimed at them. In the far corner of the room stood a table at which imposingly lounging, was sitting unshaven tall man, who looked at them lazily.

_Wow, you're on time today. Now, slowly place the box and move a couple of steps back._

Lorry shoved Wrench, who carefully lowered the box and walked away, trying not to stare at the "Boss". Something in his appearance seemed vaguely familiar, but he could not understand what it was.

 _Jack, go and check the box_ – said a man.

One of the guys downed the gun and opened the box. Taking the package, he weighed each of them on his hand, then turned and slightly nodded.

_\- Okay, now look if they have any weapon._

_C’mon dude_ \- Lorry tried to protest. _– You know me, right?_

 _\- Maybe I’m doing this because I do not like your face. And maybe because you once tried to steal at  least 50g from every package. However, we both remember how that situation ended, right? -_ grinned the man behind the desk.

After finishing the search, bulls retreated.

_\- Why aren’t you alone?_

_\- He got me on the track. I agreed to help him. If you're worried for the safety of business, do with him whatever you want. As I said, he’s deaf, and I wasn’t going to bring him with me anyway._

Wrench looked from one face to another, trying to understand what were they talking about.

The man, meanwhile, rose from the table and walked right up to the him. Taking the peak of the cap, he took it off and tossed it aside.

 _Looks like this piece of shit decided to get rid of me_ \- thought Wrench and for the first time looked straight into the man’s eyes

Suddenly the "Boss"’s face changed.

 _"Fucking hell, Wrench.. Is that you?”_ – he signed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look who's not dead! ^___^  
> this one was a little bit spontanios, but I really, really hope, that I'm back now and that I'll finish this one quite soon.  
> at least I've got some ideas for the plot. :)
> 
> and as always, pardon me for all the stupid mistakes - English is haed, but I'm trying my best.


	8. The fucked up night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrench leaned in. "I. Am. Not. Going. To. Sleep. With. You” he signed slowly in a desperate hope that his partner could still understand something.

Wrench remembered that day quite vividly. They lazily left a bar and now Wrench was trying to start the car while Numbers was looking at his phone, frowning. _“F-cking winter’s going to finish this clunker”_ he muttered. After the third attempt, their car have finally started rumbling and they went on the road. Slowing down at the local motel, Wrench turned to his partner. _“Nah, l-t’s go”_  said Numbers aloud, signing something that seemed like a weird mixture of words chicken and genius. Wrench rolled his eyes and turned to the motel parking.

A couple of minutes later they were standing at the reception desk. _“Heeey, we’re looking for an empty room or two.”_ Numbers drawled, struggling to make a friendly smile. The girl's face was getting darker every second. _“So,”_ she answered finally. _“We do have one empty room, if” she paused. “If it’s okay for you two.”_

Numbers brightened. _"Oh yeah,”_ he grinned, barely holding his balance. _“There’s no problem. We’ll share a bed.”_ he added, chuckling.  For the sake of his peace of mind Wrench decided to not even try to understand what his partner is talking about.

So, his final task was to somehow put Numbers into bed and then make some kind of a sleeping place on the floor. Sitting on the bed, Numbers lovingly patted the blanket. "If you’ll fit in, come over" he chuckled, signing. Wrench leaned in. _"I. Am. Not. Going. To. Sleep. With. You”_ he signed slowly in a desperate hope that his partner could still understand something. Numbers was about to give out something stinging in the back, but they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Wrench opened the door and saw a skinny guy who kept nervously looking around. _"Dude,”_   he wispered. _“Are you interested in some.. stuff?”_ Wrench closed the door and returned a few seconds later with a Numbers, who grimly stared at the guy. "What do you want?” muttered Numbers after a pause. The guy opened the jacket, revealing on some bags with different contents. _"Guys, I guarantee this shit is strong. If you’re gonna take two bags, I’ll make you a discount."_

Numbers raised an eyebrow. The guy swallowed. _"Dudes, trust me - I'm in this business for a couple of years already. Suppliers are my close friends – we  sell the be.." "Yeah, yeah, the best quality in this state."_ Numbers interrupted. _“Now shut the fuck up and show me the strongest ones_ ” he finished, letting the guy into the room, and studiously ignoring his partner’s disapproving gaze.

Wrench decided that he doesn’t really want to know what Numbers is going to buy and returned to the organization of a place to sleep. The mat was good enough to replace the sheets for a night, so he sat on it, examining room. The entire ceiling was covered with cracks, and the walls too - one of them had a pretty impressive hole. Rising from the mat, Wrench came closer, looking intently into the hole until he suddenly saw someone's eye.

At the last moment he recoiled from the muzzle of the gun, which immediately appeared in the hole instead of eye. The bullet flew whistling and stuck in the closet. Guy fell down, dropping all their bags. Numbers followed his example. _"What the fuck was that?!"_ he snapped, crawling to the guy. _"Looks like an ambush.”_ the guy sighed. _“There’s one fucker who’s trying to interfere my business"_ The door started hitting with such force that Wrench realized – whoever that was, he seemed pretty serious.

The only weapon they had was a gun - everything else was left in the car. Numbers, slowly sobering up, crawled to the door. _"Hey, assholes!”_ he shouted. _“It's three o'clock in the morning. I think you’re slightly violating the hotel rules. Explain why the hell you’re banging at our, and no one gets hurt."_ A pounding on the door had stopped and according to the whispering, they were carefully pondering his words. _"We are from Jason”_ came from behind the door. _"We know that this fucker Chuck is with you. Let him go – we really need to talk with him"_ At these words, Chuck cringed in horror. _"Then why the fuck couldn’t you wait a couple of minutes, and finish him somewhere around the corner?"_ asked Numbers. People behind the door went silent again. _"Listen.. just let Chuck go.”_ said someone, sounding quite nervous. _“I.. I'll count to five, and then we’ll break the door. Or.. or we’ll burn you, yeah! We have canister of gasoline!"_. Numbers snorted: _"As if it suppose to scare me”_ he mumbled, gesturing the guy to crawl under the bed. _"Wrench. As soon as I open the door, shoot"_ \- he signed. _"Are you deaf or what?!"_  came from behind the door. _"Okay, okay guys, don’t worry, we’re opening!”_ said Numbers. _“Looks like a door lock is jammed, give me just a couple of seconds.."_

He opened the door and quickly jumped back. The first shot immediately slayed a guy on the right. Two more shots and the left one was on a floor. Numbers took the gun from Wrench, peered cautiously and making sure that no more sounds is heard, went to the next room. The door was opened and there he saw another guy, holding a gun with trembling hands. As soon as Numbers showed, he dropped a gun and raised his hands. _“Please, I..”_ \- before he could finish, Numbers pulled the trigger and returned to their room. _"Hey, motherfucker,”_ he called, looking under the bed. _“Get out. The Big Bad Wolf is gone."_

 _"Guys, r-really. Thanks. Thank you so much"_ \- babbled Chuck, getting up from the floor. Numbers and Wrench looked at each other, and a second later Chuck was nailed to the wall. _"And now you give me one good reason for not to kill you, asshole.”_ \- Numbers hissed, coming close to him. _“Do you even realize that you just fucked up our plans for a quiet night? I bet that  babe from reception desk is calling the police right now.”_

 _“Then why don’t you just kill her?”_ asked Chuck, but quickly shut himself as Numbers face was becoming more and more red. _"Guys, really, I.. I owe you, yes. If you’ll want some good drugs anytime.. I.. I’ll provide the fastest delivery.. or.. I can join you, how about that?? We’ll become a fearless trio.. and I know ASL.. We.. we’ve learnt it at school.. Your partner is deaf, right??"_

Numbers winced. _"I’ve already have one reason for a headache, thanks a lot. Now do me a favor – fuck off. If we’ll find out that you’ve told someone about what happened today, I swear to you – next time you hear about Wrench and me will be on the same day when you and all your relatives are going to be carefully packed in garbage bags."_ He nodded Wrench to let the skinny one down. At the door Chuck turned and signed _"Thanks, Wrench. I owe you.”_ Numbers made a step to him and that made him immediately leave the room.

 _"He knows ASL?"_ Wrench asked, surprised. Numbers just rolled his eyes. _"Now clean everything in here. And don’t look at me like that – you were the idiot who opened the door."_ signed the bearded man. _“I’ll go and warm up the car.”_

Wrench looked at a canister, from which petrol was slowly emerging. When the motel windows burst into flames Numbers at first didn’t believe his eyes. _"The fuck are you doing??"_ \- he jumped out of the car, violently gesticulating when Wrench appeared. _"I cleaned up”_ signed Wrench. _“Get in the car. In the two-hour drive like there is a good hotel."_

_- What did you do with the girl?_

_-You don’t wanna know._

_"Tripoli is going to kill us if he finds out"_ – sighed Numbers, entering the car. They had two more hours of driving on snow-covered road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nope, I'm not dead. not yet, I mean.  
> this one is quite short, but that's all I came up with. I had that awkward moment when somewhere in the middle of writing a good battle scene you realise that you're a girl and also that you don't even have a clue of how to write good battle scenes.  
> anyway, sorry for possible mistakes.. it's been a long time since I've written anything in English
> 
> xxx


	9. A friend in need is a friend indeed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- And your partner?
> 
> Wrench gathered all the strength to stay with an impartial expression.
> 
> \- Killed

Since their last meeting, Chuck has noticeably grown bigger, and even though the gleaming gold chain looked a little pretentious on him, it was still adding some solidity to him.

_Don’t shoot him_ \- Chuck told to the guard, pointing at Wrench. Lorry opened his mouth, but Chuck noticed this and snapped - _And watch this asshole._ The fat man covered his mouth with an injured look and glanced warily at the men with pistols.

_Come on, buddy_. – Chuck told Wrench - _Let's drink something._

 

Chuck led Wrench to a small room, with a tiny refrigerator in a corner and a table with several chairs around. Taking a bottle of whiskey from the refrigerator, Chuck put it on the table, adding a couple of glasses.

So, how did you end up here? And where is your gloomy partner? - he asked, splashing in both glasses.

Wrench frowned. "Thanks to Lorry, I came here as a fucking hostage - he signed. - He promised to take me to Shaumburg, but as you can see, instead we are here."

Chuck nodded.

_\- And your partner?_

Wrench gathered all the strength to stay with an impartial expression.

_\- Killed_

Chuck frowned. _Sorry to hear that_ – he signed eventually.

 

They raised their glasses.

_\- Do you know who did this?_

_\- I know. But I’ll never get him. Nobody can get him. His name is Lorne Malvo._

_\- Never heard of him,_

_\- That guy is psycho. We almost covered him, but the cops interrupted and everything went wrong. After all this he came to the hospital and spoke hell a long time. When he was leaving, he tossed the key to the handcuffs with which I was fastened to the bed. Fucking Samaritan.._

Chuck chuckled.

_\- Whatever his intentions were, you're free now. Any plans?_

Wrench looked at him intently, figuring out if it’s safe to tell him anything.

_\- I'll go back to Chicago first. Then I think, I’m gonna.._

At that moment, a guard entered the room: _“Boss, that asshole is asking if he can talk to you right now"_

With a heavy sigh, Chuck rose and left the room. Wrench followed him.

_..and ... in general, why the fuck am I supposed to hang around here?! Ay, assholes? I'm talking to you! I'm running out of time, do you hear? Time!_ \- shouted Lorry. – _If I’m late, they will surely be asking me some questions._

When Chuck appeared, the fat man's temper was slightly diminished - he stepped back a couple of paces, still rambling.

_But for real, guys. Why am I still here, eh? If you need this guy, so let it remain, I don’t care at all. I have lots of stuff to do.._

 

_Shut up! -_  Chuck snapped. Lorry winced, but did not turn his gaze away.

_My dear friend told me that you actually held him hostage. And that you kept threatening to kill him if he wouldn’t help you. And you know something is telling me that I can trust his words_ – chuckled Chuck.

The fat man pulled his head into his shoulders. _Dude_ \- he turned to Wrench, as if forgetting that he did not hear. - _When did this happen? Did I threaten you? I was just worried about the privacy of our common business! All in the name of security! Come on..._

But they did not let him finish the sentence - Chuck knocked the man off his feet with a powerful strike to his jaw. The guard moved, but the boss signed them not to interfere. To double the effect, he kicked the lying man with a swing. Sitting next to the fat, who was hissing with pain, Chuck added: _"Do you know what’s your problem? You're only threatening. That's why all your attempts to look like an alpha male always fail"_

He straightened up, still gazing at Lorry.

_You know_ \- he said thoughtfully, staring at Lorry – _Something tells me that today you will not go anywhere._ At these words the fat man shook. Wrench, intuitively feeling what’s going to happen, went to Chuck and put his hand on his shoulder.

_Don’t._ \- he signed. – _Even though he’s an asshole, he was covering me though the whole way. I guess I owe him in a way._

Chuck made a disappointed face.

_Dude, you’re really loosing the grip_ \- he signed and turned to Lorry.

_Do you understand, motherfucker? This guy just stood up for you,_ \- Chuck said, scowling at the fat man on the floor. He raised himself, looking at the men standing above him with a mixture of horror and gratitude and opened his mouth, but only to twitch from a shoot at the back of his head.

Chuck grimaced and turned, stumbling upon Wrench's appalling gaze.

_He wouldn’t have left this business safe anyway_ \- he signed. – _And after all, his habit of stealing a little bit from every other package would have led him to the same point._

He nodded to the guards and they dragged the body to the exit. Returning to the table, he pulled out a bundle of money from a drawer and gave it to Wrench.

_I know, it’s kinda lame compensation._ – he signed. - _If you want, stay for a couple of days - you'll sleep and we’ll try to heal you. I have a great doctor.._

_Thanks, but I have to go_ – Wrench smiled, sensing the stomach howling treacherously.

Chuck seems to have heard it too.

_Well, then at least let’s eat before you’ll leave_ \- he grinned. - _Somebody from my people will take you to Chicago._

After a long time Wrench finally could eat properly – of course, his full stomach made him feel sleepy as hell, but still he refused to stay for a night.

 

When they came out of the improvised office, there was a deep night.

_Well, good luck, Wrench_ \- Chuck signed out, smiling. – _It was.. nice to meet you again, I guess._

Wrench nodded gratefully and hugged the man, frowning slightly in pain - damned wounds still did not want to heal, but there was no time for it right now. His Home was waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're close to the ending, guys, really want to end this on a good note

**Author's Note:**

> pasted from Tumblr, cuz I posted the first chapter there (and cuz I'm lazy shit):
> 
> *yes, that’s a reference to 2 fanfictions, one of them I’ve read on AO3 (unfortunally, I’ve lost a link, but you, guys, are probably know what I’m talking about) and also one written on my native language (which was also quite adorable to read).
> 
> **do you remember that moment in “2 days in Paris”, when Adam’s chacater and his girlfriend are going somewhere by subway and there’s a strange man, who it standing too close to them, so AG’s character decided to get him a special look? THAT FACE. I fell deeply in love and I’m more than sure Numbers would look even scarier with that look. maybe someone have that picture? I’d attach it here too, if so.  
> \---  
> Also, yes, Lorry is called so, because he’s driving a track (not funny, I know, but I tried). I even had a short story about his name and his profession, but eventually I decided not to include it.
> 
> And no, I don’t think that Wrench’s real name is Kevin - he lied to Lorry for sure.
> 
> P.S. I’m so sorry for all mistakes I’ve made while writing this.


End file.
